It's a psycho-delic freakout; new this week at the buffet…

This week Bunny tunes in, turns on and drops out with the lysergic emanations of The Acid Eaters & Weed; while the Kommandant takes a seat in his Corman Corner and finally takes in The Trip.

PS: Today's title is an homage to the Reverend Horton Heat circa the early '90s. He had a song called "Psychobilly Freakout," which was actually an instrumental; but every so often he would yell out "It's a psychobilly freakout!" Thus the title. By the way, did you know the relationship between the Kommandant & I dates back to a Reverend Horton Heat show circa the early '90s? It's true. Anyway, I just thought I would point that out to anyone who didn't catch that reference; which I'm thinking is probably, like, 95% of people reading this.

It's a night-y night; new this week at the buffet…

This week the Kommandant returns to The Decade That Dripped Blood and spends the night with sub-par teen slasher flick Night Of The Demons.

Then Bunny bites into a vampiric, gothic tale of lust and lycanthropy, Paul Naschy's The Night Of The Werewolf; featuring box cover illustration by c14 #16 interviewee / cover artist Wes Benscoter and the funkiest theme song of any werewolf movie we've seen to date!

Wanton wives and scandalous schoolgirls; new this week at the buffet…

This week Bunny gets tangled up in a web of steamy suburban sin courtesy genre staple Joe Sarno, Moonlighting Wives.

And The Kommandant learns what parents don't think is possible from the soft-core shenanigans of Schoolgirl Report Volume #1.

Dangerous kisses and diabolical kills; new this week at the buffet…

This week, join us as we travel to the sunny, sexy shores of Italy and come face to face with the diabolical danger of Mario Bava's Danger: Diabolik.

Then we'll head to Germany to pucker up and hunker down with sassy, silly spy flick Kiss Kiss, Kill Kill.

Possession and vengeance, Spanish style; new this week at the buffet…

This week we are pleased to feature two films from everyone's favorite lycanthropic lothario, Paul Naschy. Although he doesn't play a werewolf in either of these films; but that doesn't make them any less watchable.

First up, join the Kommandant and be bedeviled and possessed by The Devil's Possessed.

Then join Bunny and meet the mystics, madmen and man-beasts (oh my!) of Vengeance Of The Zombies.

Pitt, no pendulum; new this week at the buffet…

This week we have two horror-ific horror films starring the one and only Ingrid Pitt.

First, The Kommandant's ears are alive with the sound of Sound Of Horror; also starring Spanish beauty Soledad Miranda.

Then Bunny returns to the tombs of Hammer horror to be seduced by the sexy, sapphic sirens of The Vampire Lovers.

Brainiacs, kidnappers and pianists; new this week at the buffet…

New to our menu this week we have a trio of films that, essentially, have nothing in common. But that won't stop us from posting them in the same update!

First up, alphabetically speaking, join Bunny as she takes in the brain sucking terror of the most bizarre horror movie… ever… Brainiac.

Then join the Kommandant and be taken hostage by Mario Bava's curiously non-horrific lost masterpiece Kidnapped.

Finally, join Stately Wayne Manor as he discusses his thoughts on pianist enhancement in the latest installment of Manor On Movies, Sincerely Yours.

Naked and naked-er; new this week at the buffet...

This week we travel back in time to the seamy, steamy, sometimes black and white world of the swinging 1960s.

For an appetizer, prepare to strip down and pucker up for Samuel Fuller's cult kitsch classic, The Naked Kiss.

Then, for our main course, grab a seat at Giallo Biafra's Trattoria Of Terror to sample a satisfying slice of schoolgirl slaying, Naked You Die.

The Deuce comes to Chicago!

Speaking of film festivals and things I didn't have time to blog about last week, regular c14 contributors Michelle Clifford and Bill Landis, of Sleazoid Express & Metasex fame, are / have been hosting a series of grindhouse films that I wish I lived close enough to attend at Chicago's Music Box Theater.

For those who may be unfamiliar with the Clifford / Landis oeuvre, here's the official press release, culled from the SE website.

Michelle Clifford and Bill Landis authored the definitive book on exploitation films and Times Square culture, Sleazoid Express, a distillation sprung from their film magazine that was the first to chronicle the Deuce lifestyle during its 25 years of debauchery. Forty Second Street, known to its denizens as the Deuce, was the most lowdown, seen it all, done it all, grizzled sexual stalking ground in the world. Films offered a smorgasbord of fun, an emotional rollercoaster of highs and lows. Endorphins on the rise, euphoria, dysphoria, shock and unintentional laughter. The Blood Horror genre wanted to drive you insane and leave you with shocking memories. California Sleaze was a fantasy world populated by beautiful girls at the mercy of the twisted. The Hardcore XXX Roughies genre was a bastard marriage of sadomasochism peppered with wild psychosexual performances, the ultimate in wish fulfillment to a grateful offbeat audience. On the flip side, the Sexphobic genre was littered with characters and plots revolving around severe sexual fears and traumas. Eventually the wrecking ball turned everything into multiplexes and all manner of uninspired mall shops. The neutered Times Square. What lives there now? Disney. Time has finally caught up to exploitation. To celebrate Quentin Tarantino's genre tribute film Grindhouse, Clifford and Landis evoke the Deuce, raising it from its grave to appear at The Music Box. Landis (who had been a projectionist at Deuce grindhouses) and his partner in crime, Clifford, will be present to introduce each film, reminisce about the Deuce, and answer questions. Each film will be preceded by fun-filled theatrical trailers of shocking and juicy exploitation hits.

It's too late to catch the first two installments, which featured "the penultimate of the California Sleaze genre," Pets and I Drink Your Blood, a film that "exemplifies the Blood Horror genre with its fast, unrelentingly violent and sexually explicit shocks," but residents of the Windy City, or anyone else who happens to find themselves in the area over the next two weekends, still have time to catch the final two installments.

This week's feature is Toys Are Not For Children:

The masterpiece of the Sexphobic genre. A sexually arrested young woman works in a toyshop and sleeps with her dolls. Traumatized by her shrew mother and whoring drunken absentee father, she pathologically throws aside her ineffectual husband to reunite with her long lost Daddy. In her quest, she is led to hell by her prostitute Aunt and her worthless greasy pimp. A dirty pearl from the Sleazoid private family collection.

Next week it's Dominatrix Without Mercy:

The crown jewel of the Roughie genre from the Deuce's infamously malevolent Avon Productions. In a dominatrix's lair, we are treated to the possibilities that lead men to pay for professionals. Marlene Willoughby, a slender, severe sadist trains, chastises, and delivers fountains of liquid gold to her weepingly happy clientele. Jamie Gillis is a man in need of a tight rope and strong hard sexual healing. A true relic of the '70s Sleazoid ethos. Wanna come to a private party?

For more info. visit www.musicboxtheatre.com or www.sleazoidexpress.com

Bunny & The Kommandant do the Philadelphia Film Festival…

Spring has sprung here in Hostile City, despite the less than Spring-like temperature, and thus the Philadelphia Film Festival is in full bloom.

Technically it was in full bloom last week as well (the festival started on April 5th) but I was too busy to blog about it then. Plus there was nothing I wanted to go see last week. This week we've been blessed with a relatively light schedule and were able to find two PFF screenings we want to hit. Not to mention the fact that we're going to see Roky Erikson Sunday night in NYC. (And, PS: I am totally excited!) But I digress.

Friday night we're gonna go check out The Burglar at the Ritz 5; presented by Irv Slifkin. The Kommandant and I are big fans of only other "b noir" film we've seen starring Jayne Mansfield, Dog Eat Dog, and Jayne Mansfield in general, so this sounded like a winner.

Here's the blurb about it from the PFF website:

This classic example of a "B noir" was shot in and around Philadelphia and Atlantic City. Dan Duryea stars as the leader of a group of thieves (which includes Bryn Mawr native Jayne Mansfield) who steals a coveted necklace from a spiritualist living in a Main Line mansion. As tensions start to run high among the thieves, a couple of less-than-honorable cops appear on the scene leading to a chase along the Steel Pier. Adapted from his own story by David Goodis (writer of Truffaut's Shoot the Piano Player and Jacques Tourneur's Nightfall), this offbeat crime yarn was produced by Louis W. Kellman ("Diver Dan") and stylishly directed by Paul Wendkos (The Mephisto Waltz) in a flamboyant cinematic style reminiscent of Orson Welles at his most extravagant. Other highlights include appearances by local news legend John Facenda and the diving horse at the Steel Pier. We are proud to reintroduce this film in a pristine new 35mm print. Local author "Movie" Irv Slifkin will talk about the film and sign copies of his latest book "Filmadelphia: A Celebration of a City's Movies" (Middle Atlantic Press), which features The Burglar and over 100 other films made in and around our area.

Saturday afternoon we'll be heading to the Ritz East for the Philadelphia premiere of Viva. We've reviewed a bunch of these "suburban sin" type films over the years and, while they can be hit or miss, I'm very curious to see a modern take on this classically '70s style of sexploitation. Plus I'm developing a serious crush on the woman who wrote, produced, directed and stars in this film, Anna Biller.

Here's some information on that one, again from the PFF website:

Sure to be a future cult classic, the sheer audacity of Viva is something to behold. Anna Biller has single-handedly and lovingly created a campy sexploitation pic worthy of Russ Meyer, Radley Metzger and Hershel Gordon Lewis. Biller not only stars in the film, but collected all the set pieces and costumes and wrote and directed as well. The result is a swirling, boozy, large-breasted, semi-clad sexual odyssey that is vividly colorful, outrageously over-the-top and just a lot of breezy good fun. Biller stars as Barbi, a buxom housewife, who yearns to explore her sexuality. In the midst of the sexual revolution and with an adventurous friend along, she sets off in search of herself. Taking on the pseudonym "Viva" for her exploits, her journey lands her in a world of prostitution, nudist colonies, drugs, lesbianism and bohemian orgies. Viva's breathtaking color palate highlights Biller's set design of flamboyant 1970s "chic." Every detail is meticulously crafted, from the hilariously stilted performances right down to the copies of books like "Gynomite" sitting on shelves in this hilarious and nostalgic look at the innocent days when sex was still something "dangerous."

More woman on woman action - literally; new this week at the buffet…

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Woman on woman action; new this week at the buffet…

Once again the BMB spans the globe - or, in this week's case, the North American continent - to bring you a variety of sensational, or at least sensationalistic, sinema.

Head to Mexico with Bunny to revisit an oft-told tale of cursed crying women with kitschy atmospheric horror flick The Curse Of The Crying Woman.

And join The Kommandant on a whirlwind trip to the Big Apple where you'll go Walking In A Wishman Wonderland and test your limits with Doris' gender-bending extravaganza Let Me Die A Woman.

Euro fiends from beyond the grave; new this week at the buffet…

This week we have a trio of trash film from the land of pasta, Pisa and the Pope.

First we'll dig up the cinematic conundrum that is The Red Headed Corpse. Then we'll briefly sell our collective souls to the kitschy clutches of late '60s lost Euro-thriller Satanik. If we've still got room, we can revisit the previously reviewed film that rounds out this unholy trinity, The Faceless Monster.

Manga!

The Maddest Story Ever Told!

I don't know what the weather is like where you live today but here in Philly it is a rainy, snowy, sleet-y mess! In other words, a perfect day to stay home and watch movies. Since this evening's forecast seems to contain more of the same, I'd venture to say tonight would also be a good night to stay home and watch movies. With that in mind, should you find yourself around the TV around 2 AM EST, I highly recommend tonight's offering on The Underground, Spider Baby, by recent BMB feature subject Jack Hill.

To read the Kommandant's thoughts on this fine film - and, if you're so inclined, the rest of the feature - click here. (PS: Just in case anyone was wondering, the print version of this feature, as well as the issue of carbon 14 that surrounds it, should be back from the printer next week.)

Mucho Mario; new this week at the buffet…

As mentioned in my newly uploaded review of Mario Bava's Hatchet For The Honeymoon, I originally intended to feature this film as part of our Valentine's Day menu but couldn't find a rental copy. Fast forward to the present or, more accurately, the recent past (as in not last Saturday, but the Saturday before that) the Kommandant and I find ourselves at the Quakertown Flea Market. On our way to get some shrimp empanadas from the Caribbean joint that opened there last year, we pass the market's video store where we learn they're having a buy-two-get-one-free sale, intended to thin out their musty old VHS stock. Needless to say, I allowed him to talk me into making a pass through their stacks.

Well, OK, I didn't need that much convincing. But I was hungry and had to "use the facilities"; so first we ate, then I went to the bathroom. Then we went to the used / back issue magazine stand where I perused recent copies of Juxtaopz & Vogue Knitting and rejoiced in seeing one time c14 interviewee and longtime Philly punk Rich "Poor" Hoak on the cover of Metal Maniacs. Then I went looking for the husband and found him in the porn section.

There I unintentionally scared off an old biker couple and perused the assorted smut, particularly the copious amounts of African American and Latino porn magazines they've recently started carrying there (I had no idea there were so many!), as well as some of their "vintage" Playboys and copies of Outlaw Biker from the mid-'80s while the Kommandant flipped through copies of ITA, aka International Tattoo Art. (BTW, why do places like that always put tattoo mags in the porn section?) Anyway, then we went back to the video store.

We didn't have much money in our collective pockets, and agreed to limit ourselves to what we had in cash, before hitting the shelves separately to see what we could find. He headed straight for the horror section, while I opted to start with the shelf in front of me. It was their "cult" section and contained mostly Ed Wood and John Waters movies; both things I like, but not necessarily anything I haven't seen before or couldn't find elsewhere. Then I found myself in the biker section and immediately saw a copy of an obscure flick Thee Whiskey Rebel told us about ages ago, The Pink Angels. I wasn't looking for it specifically, but the oversized and severely out-dated plastic box was so damn big it overshadowed every other regular old cardboard box on the shelf.

I snapped it up (not like anyone else around me was that interested in it; I think the nerdy, overweight kid standing next to me was only there because that was the closest he'd ever been to a woman before) and when we met up again, the husband had a copy of the aforementioned Bava film in hand. Clearly we had found the two portion of our buy-two-get-one-free deal. For our third film we chose Devil's Possessed, starring none other than Paul Naschy.

To get back to this week's update, also new to the menu today is another Bava classic - the haunting, atmospheric, Gothic thriller Kill Baby Kill.

Black pits and golden vampires; new this week at the buffet…

The Kommandant dives into a made-in-Mexico tale of madness, murder, vengeance & terror, The Black Pit Of Dr. M.

Bunny returns to the vault of our If I Had A Hammer column and bears witness to a battle between a group of black belts and the forces of black magic, The Legend Of The 7 Golden Vampires.

Spy vs. spy vs. spy; new this week at the buffet…

This week the BMB spans the globe to bring you a variety of superfly spy-tastic sinema.

First, join The Kommandant as he channels his inner James Bond and survives both Assassination In Rome and Espionage In Tangiers.

Then join Bunny and dive into the tale of a magnificently silly secret agent, Le Magnifique.

Bunny goes to the Oscars; 2007 edition…

As some of you may know, I have a lot of jobs. I'd list them all for you but then we'd risk veering off topic - and I haven't even gotten near the topic yet. Plus it would just stress me out because then I would have to face the realization that there about twenty other things I should be doing right at this very moment, other than writing a post-Oscar blog post. Unfortunately, however, a post-Oscar blog post can't really be postponed seeing as how it has a small enough window of relevance as it is. Fortunately for my to-do list, I don't have a whole lot to say about this year's Oscars so this won't keep me, or you, occupied for too long.

To sum up the 2007 awards show in three words: it was boring. And predictable. (Except when the guy who played Captain Invincible won an award. I'm sure no one saw that coming; least of all Eddie Murphy.) But that would have been five words. In fact, the biggest surprise of the evening was how well I did on my filled-out-at-the-last-minute (and consisting mostly of blind guesses because I didn't see a single one of these movies) Oscar ballot. Normally the Kommandant has superior skills when it comes to figuring out the whims of voting Academy but this year his instincts failed him. I'm thinking it was the weather. (There was a snow / slush storm here in Philly yesterday afternoon, which may have clouded his judgment or otherwise interfered with his psychic abilities.) If the balance of our respective luck stays true to course, he should beat me soundly at Scrabble the next time we play. Which will then assure that I will beat him at mini-golf on our first round of '07. But I digress.

It was nice to see Forest Whitaker honored; I've always liked him. Ditto Martin Scorcese and Ennio Morricone but, in retrospect, those two honors seem a little irrelevant at this point. I mean, the rest of us acknowledged Scorcese as a brilliant filmmaker and Morricone as a brilliant composer a long time ago. Aren't they supposed to set trends in Hollywood? Speaking of which, let's move on to what we really watch the Oscars for: the fashion. Which was boring and predictable as well.

Oh how I long for the days before actresses had on-site stylists armed with cell phones who have people text messaging them reports on what ANTM's Mr. Jay just said about their client's outfit on E! so they can re-dress her a bit before her big moment. (How else do you explain the disappearance of that Patti Labelle circa Lady Marmalade inspired aluminum foil shrug thing that chick from Dreamgirls who is not Beyonce wore on the red carpet; meaning the one that was mysteriously absent when she sauntered up to the stage to receive her award a couple hours later. That shit was the highlight of the evening.)

In summation, none of the ensembles were enough to distract my attention away from the Women's Fashion Spring 2007 issue that came in yesterday's New York Times or the super cute shrug I'm knitting*. Nor was the event itself. I think that kind of says it all.

(*Just in case anyone is actually interested enough in what I'm knitting to look at that link, my version will be sans pointy things. No offense to the designer, who I think is wonderful. I'm just not a pointy triangle edging kind of girl. And, I'm sorry guys. I know this whole thing is way off topic. But I haven't had the time to start a knitting blog, due to the abundance of jobs I mentioned earlier, so I had nowhere else to write that. I couldn't help myself though, it had to be written! Finishing a sweater is one thing; finishing a sweater that actually fits great and looks good on you can make a person a little giddy.)

Screaming cryptic terror; new this week at the buffet…

Bunny grabs some earplugs and starts in on somewhat timid Euro-shocker And Now The Screaming Starts.

While The Kommandant peeks inside a cryptic, terrifying Crypt Of Terror and uncovers a non-sensical pairing of two completely unrelated flicks from the '70s, Land Of The Minotaur & Terror.

Melting Satanists and vengeful coal miners; new this week at the buffet…

Happy Valentine's Day everyone. I don't know what you've all got planned for this "holiday" but I hope it's fun. We don't have anything specific on our schedule today, aside from a swanky sounding dinner the Kommandant has planned for us. (The post dinner plans I have for him won't be discussed in public.) But we did both manage to clear our respective work schedules enough to take the rest of day off, which is definitely something to celebrate. Anywhoo, I have planned a special VD menu for you, our beloved buffet readers, as well; let's get to it so I can get back to that day off I was just talking about. Okey dokey?

For our appetizer, join me as we bathe in the Shatner versus Satan showdown, The Devil's Rain; also starring Vinnie Barbarino, Lt. McHale, and the dude from Green Acres.

Then, for our main course, join the Kommandant as he returns to The Decade That Dripped Blood and falls for first wave slasher flick My Bloody Valentine.